In the quiet town of Everwood, whispers carried faster than the wind. Strange things had always seemed to lurk in its shadows, but no one could have guessed the true nature of the Turner family's secret. Their daughter, Elise, barely ten years old, had started speaking in an ancient tongue that even scholars struggled to understand.

Her mother, Fiona, had always been a skeptic of the supernatural---until the day Elise woke up screaming in her sleep, her voice booming in a tone far too powerful for a child.

When she spoke of forgotten kingdoms and battles waged between gods, Fiona was forced to confront a truth too bizarre to utter aloud: her daughter was the reincarnation of a fallen deity.

"I know what you're thinking," Fiona had pleaded with anyone who would listen---teachers, doctors, neighbors. "But it's real. She's not making this up."

Every time, she was met with the same expressions: pity, concern, disbelief.

Elise, blissfully unaware of the adults' concerns, had taken to drawing strange symbols in the dirt outside their house, her eyes always wandering to the forest edge.

"I hear them calling," she would say. "They're waiting for me to return."

Her father, Mark, had tried to keep it together. But as the nights grew longer and Elise's dreams more vivid, even he began to wonder: What if Fiona was right? What if Elise wasn't just their daughter, but something ancient, trapped in the body of a child?

The first sign that they weren't imagining it came in the form of a storm---one that tore through Everwood with an intensity the town had never seen. But in the eye of the storm, Elise stood outside, untouched, as if she was calling the winds herself.

The storm's fury had taken down power lines, toppled trees, and sent the town into chaos. Yet there she was, Elise Turner, standing in the middle of the street as though the very winds obeyed her. Her hair whipped around her face, but her feet remained planted on the ground, unnaturally steady.

"Elise!" Fiona screamed, trying to run to her, but Mark held her back.

"Wait!" he shouted over the roar of the storm. His voice cracked with fear and a tinge of something else---was it awe?

Fiona struggled against him, desperation clawing at her chest. "She's just a little girl, Mark! She doesn't understand what's happening!"

But Mark couldn't take his eyes off their daughter. In the chaos, in the madness of swirling debris and howling winds, Elise was serene, like she belonged in the heart of it.

Something deep within him began to unravel.

What if she wasn't just their daughter?

What if she was something much more dangerous?

The winds suddenly died, dropping to a stillness so absolute it was unsettling. Elise turned, her eyes wide and glowing faintly, though no one else seemed to notice the change except her parents. She walked toward them, each step deliberate, almost regal.

"I stopped it," she said softly. "But they're still coming. They want me to return to them."

Mark finally let go of Fiona, both of them frozen as Elise walked past them toward the house, her words hanging in the air. What she meant, neither could comprehend---but they both knew something terrible was lurking just beyond the surface of their understanding.

***

The town called it a freak storm, but rumors began to swirl around the Turner family.

Neighbors cast sideways glances, teachers spoke in hushed tones about Elise's strange behavior, and whispers of mental illness crept into every conversation. Fiona grew more frantic, more insistent that something supernatural was happening, but no one believed her.

"She's a child," said the therapist, her voice calm but patronizing. "It's not unusual for kids to develop vivid imaginations, especially after a traumatic event like the storm."

Mark sat quietly beside Fiona in the office, his hands folded in his lap, staring at the floor. He hadn't spoken much lately. Every time he tried, the words got tangled in his throat. He was starting to believe, but it wasn't a belief that brought him comfort.

That night, as they tucked Elise into bed, she whispered, "They're closer now."

Fiona brushed a hand through her daughter's hair, pretending not to be scared. "Who, sweetie?"

Elise's eyes gleamed in the dark room. "The ones who want me back."

***

The following week, strange things began happening around the house. It started small---objects moving on their own, doors creaking open without a breeze, lights flickering. But it escalated.

One night, Mark found himself awake at 3 a.m., staring at the window, where a figure stood, barely visible in the moonlight. A shadow, tall and indistinct, just watching.

He blinked, and it was gone.

In the morning, Fiona noticed the burn marks. Thin, dark lines scorched into the hardwood floor in strange symbols---symbols that matched the ones Elise had been drawing in the dirt outside.

"Mark," Fiona whispered, kneeling to trace the marks with trembling fingers, "this isn't normal. These symbols… they weren’t here before."

Mark didn't reply. His eyes were locked on the door, where Elise stood, watching them with a curious expression.

"Did you do this?" Fiona asked softly.

Elise shook her head. "They're warnings. They want me to remember who I was."

The words sent a chill down Mark's spine. "Who you were?" he asked, his voice thick with dread.

Elise nodded solemnly. "I was one of them. A god. But I fell. They're coming to take me back."

***

Fiona started losing sleep. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them at all times, lurking just beyond the reach of their understanding.

Elise's behavior grew stranger by the day. She would sit for hours, staring at the woods behind their house, as though waiting for something to emerge from the shadows. Her once bright, playful energy had been replaced with a distant, almost haunting demeanor.

Mark tried to maintain normalcy, but it was clear to anyone who saw him that he was falling apart. He barely slept, and when he did, the nightmares were vivid---images of gods waging war in the skies, of worlds crumbling under the weight of cosmic forces. And always, in the center of it all, Elise stood, watching with eyes that weren’t entirely hers.

It wasn't long before the rumors in town grew into something more sinister. People started to talk about curses, about dark forces tied to the Turner family.

Strange accidents began to happen near their house---a tree branch fell and nearly crushed a passing car, the neighbor's dog vanished without a trace, and then there was the fire at the local church.

No one could explain how it started, but many believed it was a sign.

***

Fiona, desperate and sleep-deprived, turned to an old family friend, Father Jonathan. He'd been a priest for as long as she could remember, and while she wasn't religious, she knew he had experience with things most people couldn't explain.

"Fiona," Father Jonathan said, sitting across from her in the dimly lit living room, "these things you:re describing… they're not unheard of, but they are rare. If what you believe is true, then this is not something you can handle alone."

Fiona nodded, clutching her hands tightly in her lap. "She says she's a fallen god. That they're coming to take her back. I don't know what to do anymore. No one believes us."

Father Jonathan glanced at the hallway where Elise's soft humming could be heard. "I will do what I can. But if what she says is true, then this may not be something we can stop."

That night, Father Jonathan stayed with the family. As dusk settled over the town, a thick fog rolled in, shrouding the house in a cold, eerie silence. Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Elise was calm, eerily so, sitting at the kitchen table and drawing the same symbols over and over.

"They'll be here soon," she said, her voice soft but certain.

Mark looked at Father Jonathan, his eyes pleading for answers. "What can we do?"

Before the priest could answer, a low rumble echoed through the house, as if the very ground beneath them was stirring.

"They're here," Elise whispered.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and the temperature dropped sharply. A heavy pressure filled the room, making it hard to breathe. From the shadows, shapes began to emerge---tall, indistinct figures, their forms shifting like smoke.

Fiona grabbed Elise, pulling her close, but Elise didn't resist. She looked up at the shadowy figures with a strange sense of familiarity.

"You've come to take me back," she said, more to herself than to them.

One of the figures stepped forward, its voice a low, resonant hum. "You do not belong here, child."

Father Jonathan stepped between them, holding up a crucifix. "In the name of God, I command you to leave this place!"

The figure paused, its form flickering like a dying flame. For a moment, the room was still.

Then, with a force that sent everyone to the ground, the shadow lashed out. The crucifix in Father Jonathan's hand shattered, pieces scattering across the floor. Fiona screamed, holding Elise tighter as the shadows loomed closer.

Mark scrambled to his feet, grabbing a fireplace poker, though he knew it was futile. "Stay away from her!"

But Elise looked up at him, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "Dad, it:s okay. I remember now."

The shadows swirled around her, and for the first time, Elise didn't look like a child. There was something ancient in her eyes, something powerful.

"I am not afraid," she said calmly.

With those words, the shadows hesitated, as if recognizing the presence of the deity within her. They shifted, their forms flickering in the dim light of the room, before retreating into the corners of the house, leaving behind a stillness that was almost deafening.

Mark collapsed onto the floor, his breath ragged. Fiona was still clutching Elise, shaking with fear. Father Jonathan remained on his knees, staring at the shattered crucifix in his hand.

Elise stood, stepping away from her mother. "They won't take me back," she said softly. "But they'll keep trying. Until I make my choice."

Fiona's voice trembled. "What choice?"

Elise looked up at her, and for the first time, her voice carried the weight of the deity she had once been. "To remain here as your daughter… or to return to the realm of gods and leave this life behind forever."

***

The silence in the room was unbearable, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. Elise stood at the center of it all, a child by appearance but something far more unsettling beneath the surface. Fiona was the first to break the stillness, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"You can't leave us," she whispered, gripping Elise's hand tightly. "You're our daughter. You belong here."

Elise looked at her mother, her expression unreadable. "But I don't," she replied softly. "I belonged somewhere else first."

A chill ran through Fiona. She wanted to scream, to shake her daughter until the old Elise---her Elise---came back. But the words stuck in her throat, tangled up with fear.

Father Jonathan rose slowly from the floor, his face pale and drawn. "If what she says is true," he began, his voice shaky but firm, "then this is no ordinary possession. This is something far older, far more dangerous."

Mark turned toward him, his eyes wild with desperation. "What are you saying? That she's… what? A god in a child's body? That we have to let her go?"

The priest swallowed hard, casting a glance at Elise, who stood calmly, as if she wasn't the center of a cosmic struggle. "If they're trying to take her back, it means her presence here is unnatural. But whether we have the right to interfere… I don’t know."

Fiona shook her head violently. "No. I don't care what she was. She's ours now. She's our daughter."

Elise's gaze softened, and for a brief moment, she looked like the child they had always known, the little girl who used to laugh and run through the house. "Mom, I don't want to hurt you," she said quietly. "But I feel them pulling at me. The longer I stay, the stronger they'll get. They won't stop until I return."

A sudden thud echoed through the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Everyone jumped, eyes darting toward the source of the noise.

The windows in the living room had burst inward, shards of glass littering the floor.

But there was no wind.

No storm.

"They're here again," Elise whispered, her voice barely audible.

The air grew heavy once more, a thick, suffocating pressure that pressed down on them. The shadows that had retreated into the corners began to stir, slowly creeping back toward the center of the room, drawn to Elise like moths to a flame.

Fiona tightened her grip on Elise, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do they want from you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Elise turned her head slowly, her glowing eyes locking onto her mother’s. "They want me to remember. To reclaim what I was."

Before Fiona could respond, a deafening crash reverberated through the house, as if the very walls were straining to hold back an unseen force. The shadows, once formless and shifting, began to solidify, taking on twisted, humanoid shapes that loomed over the family.

Mark grabbed the fireplace poker again, though he knew it was a futile gesture.

"Stay back!" he shouted, swinging it wildly at the figures.

But the shadows paid him no mind. Their attention was fixed solely on Elise, their dark forms pulsating with an unnatural energy. One of them spoke, its voice a guttural, otherworldly growl that sent chills down everyone’s spine.

"You cannot deny what you are," it rasped. "You will return to us, or we will take you by force."

Elise stood her ground, her small frame dwarfed by the towering shadow. But there was no fear in her eyes. Instead, there was something else---something that looked like recognition.

"I know who I am now," she said, her voice steady, though it carried the weight of something far older than her years. "I don't belong to you anymore."

The shadow let out a low, menacing growl. "You are ours. You always were."

Fiona’s heart was in her throat. She wanted to pull Elise away, to protect her, but something held her back---some deep, primal instinct that told her this was beyond her reach.

Without warning, the shadow lunged at Elise, its dark form surging forward with terrifying speed. Fiona screamed, but before the shadow could reach her daughter, a blinding light erupted from Elise's body, pushing the darkness back with an almost violent force.

The shadow recoiled, its form flickering and distorting as it struggled against the light. But the other shadows didn't retreat. Instead, they surged forward, their collective presence overwhelming the room with an oppressive, suffocating darkness.

Elise:s light flickered, weakening under the sheer weight of the shadows pressing down on her. She gasped, her small hands clenching into fists as she fought to hold them back.

"I… won’t go with you," she said through gritted teeth.

But the shadows were relentless, their voices rising in a chorus of guttural whispers. "You will return. You cannot defy us."

Father Jonathan stepped forward, his voice trembling with desperation. "In the name of all that is holy, I command you to leave this child!"

The shadows paused for a moment, their forms wavering, as if the words had some effect. But then, with a sudden, violent force, they surged toward Elise once more, intent on pulling her into their dark grasp.

Mark rushed to his daughter's side, grabbing her hand. "We're not letting you go," he whispered fiercely.

Fiona joined him, wrapping her arms around Elise's trembling body. "We'll fight them together."

Elise, struggling to hold onto her light, looked up at her parents, her eyes filled with both love and sorrow. "I can't… hold them off much longer."

And then, with a sound like thunder, the house itself seemed to tremble. The floorboards creaked, the walls groaned, and the temperature plummeted to a bone-chilling cold. The shadows gathered, swirling into a vortex that centered on Elise, pulling at her with an unstoppable force.

Fiona screamed as the pull grew stronger, dragging them all toward the center of the vortex. "No! You can't have her!"

But the shadows only intensified their grip, their voices merging into a cacophony of ancient, otherworldly whispers.

"She is ours."

Elise’s light flickered again, dimming as the pull became too much for her to resist. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at her parents.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Fiona’s heart shattered at the words. "No! Don't say that! We'll fight this---together, we'll fight it!"

But deep down, she knew. This was beyond their control. Beyond anything human.

And then, just as it seemed that the shadows would consume them all, Elise's eyes blazed with a sudden intensity.

"No," she whispered, her voice filled with a newfound strength. "I choose this."

With a final surge of energy, Elise unleashed a brilliant light that exploded from her body, flooding the room with a blinding, searing brightness. The shadows screamed in agony as the light tore through them, ripping their forms apart and scattering them into nothingness.

The vortex collapsed in on itself, the pressure lifting in an instant. The house fell into an eerie stillness, the oppressive darkness replaced by an almost deafening silence.

Mark and Fiona lay on the floor, gasping for breath, their arms still wrapped tightly around Elise. But when they looked down, they realized she wasn't there.

Elise had vanished.

Fiona's scream pierced the silence, raw and filled with unimaginable grief. She clutched at the empty space where her daughter had been, her mind unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Mark sat in stunned silence, his eyes wide with shock. "She's gone," he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.

Father Jonathan stood at the edge of the room, his face pale and drawn. He crossed himself slowly, his voice a whisper. "She chose… she chose to return."

The days that followed were a blur of mourning and disbelief. The town whispered even more now, their voices hushed but filled with suspicion.

The Turners had lost their daughter, but no one could explain why. No one, that is, except the shadows, still lurking at the edges of the Turner's home, waiting for another chance.

***

The days after Elise's disappearance passed in a fog of disbelief and sorrow. The house, once filled with the laughter of a little girl, was now a hollow shell.

Fiona wandered the halls in a daze, her hands brushing against Elise's toys, her clothes, anything that held a trace of her presence. She hadn't left Elise's room since the night she vanished.

Mark, too, was shattered, but his grief manifested differently. He spent long hours sitting by the window, staring out at the woods where Elise had once said they were calling to her.

The shadows that had terrorized their family might have been gone, but something darker had settled in---the gnawing emptiness left behind.

The town, for all its whispers and suspicion, gave them space, though it was the kind that came with avoidance. No one could explain the fire, the storm, or the strange energy that seemed to pulse through the Turner house. Their neighbors kept their distance, murmuring prayers under their breath whenever they passed by.

Father Jonathan visited frequently, bringing quiet words of comfort and prayers. But even his faith had been shaken. There was no denying what he had seen that night.

The symbols on the floor, the shifting shadows---Elise's transformation. What she had become, and where she had gone, were mysteries far beyond his reach.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard, Fiona finally spoke, her voice cracked from disuse. "She's not gone. Not completely."

Mark looked up from his seat by the window, his gaze heavy with exhaustion. "What are you talking about?"

Fiona sat at the foot of Elise's bed, her eyes red from sleepless nights. "I can feel her, Mark. She's still here, somewhere. I know it sounds crazy, but I don't think she's… gone forever."

Mark said nothing, his gaze drifting back to the woods. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that somewhere, somehow, Elise was still with them. But all he could think about was that last moment---the blinding light, the shadows screaming, and then… nothing.

"She made her choice," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "She chose to go back."

Fiona shook her head, her fingers clutching at the edge of Elise's blanket. "No, she didn't. She didn't choose them. She chose us. She protected us, Mark. She saved us."

Mark's eyes flickered with something---hope, or perhaps just desperation. "If she's still here… then where is she?"

Fiona stood abruptly, her movements frantic as if a realization had just struck her.

"The woods," she said, her voice trembling with conviction. "That's where they were calling her. That's where they came from."

Mark frowned, but something in Fiona's eyes---wild, determined---made him stand. "You think she's… in the woods?"

"I don't know," Fiona admitted, her voice barely holding steady. "But I have to try. I can't just sit here anymore."

Mark stared at her for a long moment before nodding. "I'll go with you."

***

The woods had always seemed ordinary to Mark and Fiona---a quiet place where the trees swayed in the breeze, a sanctuary of nature. But now, as they ventured into the forest, the air felt different, thick with an almost tangible energy.

The deeper they went, the more oppressive it became, the same heavy pressure they had felt in their house that night.

Fiona led the way, her steps quick and purposeful. She had no plan, no idea where she was going, but something inside her---some primal instinct---was pulling her forward.

Mark followed closely behind, his eyes scanning the darkening woods for any sign of movement. The trees seemed to close in on them, their branches like twisted fingers reaching toward the sky.

After what felt like hours, they reached a small clearing. In the center stood a massive, gnarled tree, its bark blackened and scorched as though it had been struck by lightning.

The air around it buzzed with energy, the same energy that had surrounded Elise in her final moments.

"This is it," Fiona whispered, her breath catching in her throat. "This is where they came for her."

Mark looked around, his heart pounding. "What now?"

Fiona stepped toward the tree, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch its bark. The moment her fingers made contact, a shock of energy surged through her, forcing her to stumble back with a gasp.

And then, from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, came a familiar voice. Soft, distant, but unmistakably Elise's.

"Mom… Dad…"

Mark and Fiona froze, their breath hitching in their chests. The voice echoed through the trees, barely more than a whisper, but it was real.

"Elise?" Fiona called, her voice trembling. "Elise, where are you?"

The shadows shifted, swirling at the edge of their vision. And then, slowly, a figure emerged---small, fragile, but undeniably their daughter.

Elise stood at the edge of the clearing, her form flickering like a mirage, as though she were caught between worlds.

Her eyes were the same as before---glowing with that strange, otherworldly light. But there was something different now. She seemed… older, wiser, as though she had lived a thousand lifetimes in the span of just days.

"I couldn't stay," she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. "I couldn't stay with you. But I didn't go back with them, either."

Fiona's knees gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face. "Elise… please… come home."

Elise shook her head, her form shimmering as though the very air around her was distorting. "I can't. Not the way I was before. I'm… I'm something else now."

Mark stepped forward, his voice raw with emotion. "But you're still our daughter."

Elise's eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked like the little girl they had known, the child they had loved with all their hearts.

"I'll always be your daughter," she said softly. "But I don't belong in your world anymore. I'm something more now. And I have to protect you."

Fiona sobbed, reaching out toward her daughter. "We don't need protection! We just need you!"

Elise's form flickered again, as though she was slipping away. "I love you," she whispered. "I'll always be watching over you. But I can't stay. Not like this."

Mark fell to his knees beside Fiona, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Elise… don't go."

Elise smiled sadly, her form fading further into the shadows. "I'm never really gone, Dad. I'm just… somewhere else."

And with that, she disappeared, her presence lingering in the air like a faint echo.

Fiona collapsed into Mark's arms, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. Mark held her tightly, his own tears falling silently as the weight of everything crashed down on him.

Their daughter was gone. Not to the gods, not to the shadows, but to a place they could never reach.

But she had saved them. She had protected them. And though she was no longer with them in the way they wanted, they knew she was still watching over them.

***

In the weeks that followed, life slowly returned to a semblance of normalcy, though it would never truly be the same.

The house remained quiet, haunted by memories of what had been. But every now and then, when the wind blew just right or the shadows moved in the corners of their vision, Mark and Fiona could almost feel her presence.

Elise was gone, but she wasn't lost. And in their hearts, they knew she was still with them, watching from a place just beyond their reach, protecting them from the forces that had tried to take her away.

The shadows never returned.

***

4.400 words.